Post by Artemis Zeal on Apr 4, 2010 13:38:35 GMT -6
Cedric Diggory was feeling a wide range of emotions. He was hurt for one, even a bit angry. Then, of course, there was suspicion. What type of boyfriend would he be if he wasn't suspicious? But, most of all, he was confused. He had absolutely no idea what was making his girlfriend act like this. Well, technically, he did know. It was that godforsaken book.
He knew that Hermione loved books, he understood that. She had even recommended a few that he had thoroughly enjoyed. But this book. She had never acted this way over a mere book. Ever since she'd purchased it via Owl Order the week before she'd been either:
1. Giggling insanely
2. Sighing dreamily, or
Muttering weird nonsense, sounding a lot like "I wish I had an Edward"
He may not have minded this; he was a good, supportive boyfriend after all, but the worst part was, she never seemed to have time for him.
Before continuing, the reader must understand that Cedric Diggory was not a needy man. He understood his girlfriend needed alone time or time with her friends, just as he needed a Guy's Night now and then. However, ever since she'd gotten that bloody book, she never had time for him. And he meant never.
Not only that, she no longer had time for her friends, either. From information garnered from her best friends, Ron Weasley and Harry Potter, she spent all her time in her dormitory now. The Ron kid's sister, Ginny or whoever, had tried to coerce Hermione into coming down, but had received no reply except for a pair of glaring, chocolate-brown eyes.
"Edwarrrrrrrd," was what, according to Ginny, she had been heard to say after closing the door to the dormitory.
Cedric had been absolutely distraught, only able to comfort himself with the fact that, soon enough, she would be done with this little fad of hers. She had gone through phases before; a few months ago, according to her friends, she had launched a campaign dedicated to house-elves. Spew, something or other. . . . Eventually, though, that had passed. She was a teenage girl, prone to these sorts of fancies.
But that had been before he realized the true extent of his girlfriend's madness. There wasn't just one of the damn books, but four. Four books – it was a bloody saga. He had tried to be patient, tried to be understanding – it hadn't worked. Purposefully, Cedric strode toward the grounds; he was going to have a serious talk with his girlfriend . . . and if it meant that he would have to burn those damned books, well – a gleeful smile lit the Hufflepuff's face – then, so be it.
"Hermione?" Cedric came upon the girl, curled up under their favorite oak tree, reading. For one wild moment, Cedric hoped – dared to hope – that it was a different book than the one he had come to loathe. But, no. There were still the same ghastly, pale hands, the same bright red apple, the same title.
"Oh, hi, Cedric. Haven't seen you in awhile." Glancing up, she sent him a dazzling smile that, under normal circumstances, would have made his heart leap. All it made this time was a feeble hop; that book, that horrible, girlfriend-stealing book, was suppressing it.
"Yeah, I know," he replied, attempting to sound nonchalant. He didn't want to put her immediately on the defensive. "Erm . . . haven't you read that already? What is this, your fiftieth time?" Seating himself next to her, he barely hid his disdain behind an unconvincing grin.
There was silence for a moment as Hermione's face flushed and, looking down at the tome before her, began gently caressing it. How Cedric wished that was his hand she was caressing. Damn girlfriend-stealer. . . .
"No. It's my, erm . . . my tenth time," she replied softly, giggling slightly as if the answer in itself were not an abomination.
Probably thinking about that Edward fellow, Cedric thought bitterly. Alright, he admitted it, he was jealous of a fictional character, but still . . . how could he not be? Hermione was his girlfriend and she had, basically, been stolen away from him by a man he could never hope to compete with. If this 'Edward' were real, he was quite sure she would run off with him and that unnerved him.
So it was really no surprise that, upon hearing Hermione's answer, he placed a hand to his face and, internally, took a deep breath, steeling himself for what he was about to say.
"How could you possibly read a book that many times?" he demanded, a bit harshly. "I mean, it's not like it's a school book or anything. It's Muggle literature. What's so special about it?"
However, rather than looking abashed, Hermione's brown eyes lit up as she launched into a speech, a speech that Cedric had not yet had the misfortune to hear though it had been bestowed upon Harry, Ron, Ginny, the entire Gryffindor common room, and Professor Snape before him.
So, he listened, and listened to how great and amazing Edward was, and how his and Bella's love was "true love" and how "the lion fell in love with the lamb," and, of course, what a goddess Stephenie Meyer was for creating a whole new spectrum of vampires. No other vampires before the Cullens had ever sparkled in the sunlight before!
"Actually, Edward reminds me a lot of you," she finished with a gasp.
"What?" Cedric's head jerked up from its' comatose position so suddenly, he cricked his neck. "Hermione, I love you, but you're insane. How the hell can you possibly compare me to a masochistic, hundred-year-old vampire who . . . who falls for a seventeen-year-old girl? He's a bloody pedophile."
"No, he's not!" Hermione retorted, affronted, as she clasped the book to her chest. "And Bella's eighteen in the second one for your information. Get your facts straight."
"Big bloody deal. The point is, he's this old guy having a relationship with this seventeen . . . fine, eighteen-year-old girl. That's very pedophilic . . . hell, that's practically rape! Don't you find that the least bit disturbing?"
Hermione's eyes welled up with tears as she continued to caress her book. "Don't say that," she hissed, hiccuping.
"Hermione . . . oh, please don't cry. It's just . . . just. . . ." Cedric struggled for words; he reached for her, but she avoided his arms.
"If you think that this is wrong, then why don't you look at us?" she asked, biting her trembling lower lip.
"Us? What do you mean, us?"
"You're eighteen years old, I'm fourteen. Same difference."
"Wh-wha. . . ." Any possible counterargument faded in the face of this ridiculous statement. He could only watch, helplessly, as Hermione stood, the book still held tightly in her clutches.
"Next time you want to insult Edward, Cedric, just look at yourself. You guys are actually pretty related, come to think of it. When you're ready to talk rationally, I'll be there but for now, Ced, you're better off facing it."
"Facing.. . ?"
"You're Edward Cullen," she explained simply. Sending her boyfriend one last, dazzling smile, she headed back toward the school and the sanctity of her dormitory.
Cedric snapped into alertness once more as he stared at Hermione's retreating back. He couldn't be like that vampire, could he? It was true, he was dating a girl four years his junior. But no. . . . It wasn't possible. . . .
"Hermione! Hermione, please wait! I'm not like Edward, I don't sparkle! Hermione!"
Was it?
( I would like to make something clear. I,personally,don't like twilight, this just popped into my head one day and I just had to write it down. I don't own any of the characters some belong to J.K Rowling and the others mention belong to Stephenie Meyer)
He knew that Hermione loved books, he understood that. She had even recommended a few that he had thoroughly enjoyed. But this book. She had never acted this way over a mere book. Ever since she'd purchased it via Owl Order the week before she'd been either:
1. Giggling insanely
2. Sighing dreamily, or
Muttering weird nonsense, sounding a lot like "I wish I had an Edward"
He may not have minded this; he was a good, supportive boyfriend after all, but the worst part was, she never seemed to have time for him.
Before continuing, the reader must understand that Cedric Diggory was not a needy man. He understood his girlfriend needed alone time or time with her friends, just as he needed a Guy's Night now and then. However, ever since she'd gotten that bloody book, she never had time for him. And he meant never.
Not only that, she no longer had time for her friends, either. From information garnered from her best friends, Ron Weasley and Harry Potter, she spent all her time in her dormitory now. The Ron kid's sister, Ginny or whoever, had tried to coerce Hermione into coming down, but had received no reply except for a pair of glaring, chocolate-brown eyes.
"Edwarrrrrrrd," was what, according to Ginny, she had been heard to say after closing the door to the dormitory.
Cedric had been absolutely distraught, only able to comfort himself with the fact that, soon enough, she would be done with this little fad of hers. She had gone through phases before; a few months ago, according to her friends, she had launched a campaign dedicated to house-elves. Spew, something or other. . . . Eventually, though, that had passed. She was a teenage girl, prone to these sorts of fancies.
But that had been before he realized the true extent of his girlfriend's madness. There wasn't just one of the damn books, but four. Four books – it was a bloody saga. He had tried to be patient, tried to be understanding – it hadn't worked. Purposefully, Cedric strode toward the grounds; he was going to have a serious talk with his girlfriend . . . and if it meant that he would have to burn those damned books, well – a gleeful smile lit the Hufflepuff's face – then, so be it.
"Hermione?" Cedric came upon the girl, curled up under their favorite oak tree, reading. For one wild moment, Cedric hoped – dared to hope – that it was a different book than the one he had come to loathe. But, no. There were still the same ghastly, pale hands, the same bright red apple, the same title.
Twilight
"Oh, hi, Cedric. Haven't seen you in awhile." Glancing up, she sent him a dazzling smile that, under normal circumstances, would have made his heart leap. All it made this time was a feeble hop; that book, that horrible, girlfriend-stealing book, was suppressing it.
"Yeah, I know," he replied, attempting to sound nonchalant. He didn't want to put her immediately on the defensive. "Erm . . . haven't you read that already? What is this, your fiftieth time?" Seating himself next to her, he barely hid his disdain behind an unconvincing grin.
There was silence for a moment as Hermione's face flushed and, looking down at the tome before her, began gently caressing it. How Cedric wished that was his hand she was caressing. Damn girlfriend-stealer. . . .
"No. It's my, erm . . . my tenth time," she replied softly, giggling slightly as if the answer in itself were not an abomination.
Probably thinking about that Edward fellow, Cedric thought bitterly. Alright, he admitted it, he was jealous of a fictional character, but still . . . how could he not be? Hermione was his girlfriend and she had, basically, been stolen away from him by a man he could never hope to compete with. If this 'Edward' were real, he was quite sure she would run off with him and that unnerved him.
So it was really no surprise that, upon hearing Hermione's answer, he placed a hand to his face and, internally, took a deep breath, steeling himself for what he was about to say.
"How could you possibly read a book that many times?" he demanded, a bit harshly. "I mean, it's not like it's a school book or anything. It's Muggle literature. What's so special about it?"
However, rather than looking abashed, Hermione's brown eyes lit up as she launched into a speech, a speech that Cedric had not yet had the misfortune to hear though it had been bestowed upon Harry, Ron, Ginny, the entire Gryffindor common room, and Professor Snape before him.
So, he listened, and listened to how great and amazing Edward was, and how his and Bella's love was "true love" and how "the lion fell in love with the lamb," and, of course, what a goddess Stephenie Meyer was for creating a whole new spectrum of vampires. No other vampires before the Cullens had ever sparkled in the sunlight before!
"Actually, Edward reminds me a lot of you," she finished with a gasp.
"What?" Cedric's head jerked up from its' comatose position so suddenly, he cricked his neck. "Hermione, I love you, but you're insane. How the hell can you possibly compare me to a masochistic, hundred-year-old vampire who . . . who falls for a seventeen-year-old girl? He's a bloody pedophile."
"No, he's not!" Hermione retorted, affronted, as she clasped the book to her chest. "And Bella's eighteen in the second one for your information. Get your facts straight."
"Big bloody deal. The point is, he's this old guy having a relationship with this seventeen . . . fine, eighteen-year-old girl. That's very pedophilic . . . hell, that's practically rape! Don't you find that the least bit disturbing?"
Hermione's eyes welled up with tears as she continued to caress her book. "Don't say that," she hissed, hiccuping.
"Hermione . . . oh, please don't cry. It's just . . . just. . . ." Cedric struggled for words; he reached for her, but she avoided his arms.
"If you think that this is wrong, then why don't you look at us?" she asked, biting her trembling lower lip.
"Us? What do you mean, us?"
"You're eighteen years old, I'm fourteen. Same difference."
"Wh-wha. . . ." Any possible counterargument faded in the face of this ridiculous statement. He could only watch, helplessly, as Hermione stood, the book still held tightly in her clutches.
"Next time you want to insult Edward, Cedric, just look at yourself. You guys are actually pretty related, come to think of it. When you're ready to talk rationally, I'll be there but for now, Ced, you're better off facing it."
"Facing.. . ?"
"You're Edward Cullen," she explained simply. Sending her boyfriend one last, dazzling smile, she headed back toward the school and the sanctity of her dormitory.
Cedric snapped into alertness once more as he stared at Hermione's retreating back. He couldn't be like that vampire, could he? It was true, he was dating a girl four years his junior. But no. . . . It wasn't possible. . . .
"Hermione! Hermione, please wait! I'm not like Edward, I don't sparkle! Hermione!"
Was it?
( I would like to make something clear. I,personally,don't like twilight, this just popped into my head one day and I just had to write it down. I don't own any of the characters some belong to J.K Rowling and the others mention belong to Stephenie Meyer)
